1
Eddie wasn't one for being sick.
No he wasn't kidding.
It wasn't the regular sick this time. He knew he had to be careful but he rarely was bedridden sick. Like. Ever?
Eddie remembered the symptoms like it was yesterday. It was a week before school would be let out for Christmas break. He was feeling a bit stuffy. He ignored it as it was probably his allergies to trees, pines, bushes, grasses, weeds, and dog hair on his certain classmate's shirts.
This would pass in an hour. His hand twitched, maybe he should raise it to go down to the nurse's office. He took a deep breath, inhaled a breath from his inhaler and put it back into his fanny pack.
He picked his pencil back up from the desk, wiped his nose with his sleeve and ignored his sickness.
Eddie felt infected already.
2
He calmly lounged in his English class, his English book leaned against his ribs. Eddie was bored out of his mind but was engaged in the class.
"Eddie can you please read the last paragraph of page seven out of the book?"
He said a small 'Mhm' and sat straighter. Eddie's English teacher, Miss. Kiaske inclined her head, her heavy glasses amazingly not dropping off her face.
Class was going to be let out today for break. Everyone was bored with the same antsy feeling of that the class was going to get barely anything done.
He coughed once in his sleeve and cleared his throat. Eddie felt the same sick feeling that he had a couple days ago. The imaginary started pouring from the back of the class, he looked behind him and there was nothing. But he knew there was black leaking fluid trying to infect him further.
To be sick.
His mother warned him.
Eddie spoke uneasily, "Jane had to just get out of her house. There was something creaking in the basement and she felt very chilled about it and-"
He sneezed which earned a small chuckle from a classmate and a humble, "Bless you." From another.
"Go on." Miss. Kiaske prompted.
Eddie took a deep breath in, ignoring his reflex for reaching out for his inhaler.
"Jane well- uh…she felt very chilled about it...the basement...and there were goosebumps on her arms." He cleared his throat again. There were goosebumps on his own arms now.
"Jane knew what to do, though she did not want to. Jane was a girl who was not frightened easily." He finished and paled.
There was a spider on his book and he stared, wide eyed. If he was at home he would have screeched but in class he just stared at it and he slid his book on his desk, not touching the creature.
The teacher: Miss Kiaske didn't notice.
"Thank you Edward." She pleasantly smiled, hitching up her glasses on her gaunt face.
There was a snort from the other side of the room.
Richie.
Miss. K continued, "Now can someone tell us the techniques the author uses conveying meaning. Perhaps a metaphor?" She asks intuitively.
Eddie edged the book away from his desk and the spider skittered away.
He coughed again and sniffled, wishing that if it were only the spider bothering him.
3
Sometime later Eddie got home, instead of getting a book and occupying himself til dinner, he instead laid on the couch and slept.
He dreamt of spiders holding trays and scared girls wandering large halls. It made him a bit sick since the angles of the dream felt like a camera twisting, going upside down. The camera pointed to him, outside of him.
He saw black slime pour from the cieling, drip down the walls. Eddie started hyperventilating.
"No." He cried out, "No. No. No. NOnonononononononoooo."
He moaned aloud.
It filled around him, first a circular puddle around his feet then past his ankles, to his knees, and past his hips he tried to move but it was like dried cement. He was crying now and touched his face finding the black liquid coming from his eyes.
A faint laughter filled the room, barely audible.
4
When Eddie woke, it felt like a heavier world. Eddit wasn't alone, his mother next to him. He was sweating and he could feel tears sliding silently out of his eyes. It mingled with the sweat and didn't give away that he was crying.
His mother was feeling his head, she was muttering to herself.
Eddie's hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat and tears still present.
His mom continued, rattled off a list of things that they needed even though they had one half of the things already in the house since Eddie was delicate all the time.
"You are very sick and very unwell…oh dear goodness we need soup, lentils, Tylenol…EDddddiieeee." She pushed herself up with two shoves and looked down, almost glaring at him.
She walked away as soon as he blearily blinked at her.
Though Eddie felt terrible, he got off of the couch.
"Edward Kaspbrak what are you doing?" Her face was slightly flushed, staring at her son halfway up the damn stairs!
"Going to bed." He muttered in a tone of sleepiness, obviously sickly pale and sweaty.
"Okay dear, just get some rest and just be very careful, please!" She said towards Eddie, "Stop it. Stop worrying me. Just please rest. I love you so so so much. Don't worry me pleasee."
She stamped her foot once, lightly.
"Sorry. Okay mother."
"Please rest. I will get some medicene at the store while you sleep." Mrs. Kaspbrak felt bad that she had to leave her son alone at home. But what if she ran out of things to make him better? She had no idea what kind of sickness Eddie had. Maybe it was more than a simple cold.
Her son turned slowly and tromped up the stairs.
She turned around, clutching her purse and nearly shouted at an unsuspecting figure in the kitchen with her.
Mrs. K quickly recognized the person, grimacing.
"Hey. What are you doing here?"
"Darling just forgot my bottle." Eddie's father sauntered towards the cabinet.
"Okay, fine. Quickly."
She didn't want to fight and she just wanted to leave as soon as possible to shop for her sick boy. Her mind was on the task of getting Eddie better and as soon as her x-husband left, the sooner she could worry about her boy. The boy she won in court for custody.
"Thank ya darlin'." He grunted, clutching two alcohol bottles.
She nodded, glaring, her chins tripling.
She was watching him, keeping a close eye on HIM, her ex with a big X.
Her nerves were all tensed and her body was stiller than usual.
"Okay now you have to pay the child support in a week and please don't come here for a while, Eddie is sick." She blabbered, regretting the last part.
"Oh?" He blearily looked up at her, rubbing his hand on his face that gesture making a scratching sound.
"Yes. Now leave." She stared at him, daring him.
She sighed quietly and stuck her nose up.
"I'm gonna powder my nose, I respect that you will be gone by the time I'm out." She left to go use the bathroom.
The moment she left, he said quietly to himself, "I gotta check em', my son."
He spit on the floor. Eddie's dad knew the way and mostly everything was the same in the house. He opened his son's door and locked it with a small click.
To keep that cow out.
"Eddie." He cleared his throat really loudly and looked at the shit stain.
"Dad?" Eddie opened his eyes, looking at his dad.
His head hurt and he felt a bit dizzy, looking up at his dad. All he saw was a scowl on his face and the tenseness of his muscles, his face haven't been shaved in days. He smelled of alcohol and rage.
"Dad please." Eddie knew what this was about.
"Eddie." He came closer to Eddie, in a hugging position.
Eddie cowered back but looked at the blankets, the ceiling, and then him. His dad. Should he trust him? Maybe this was a truce. Eddie put on a small smile and brought up his arms.
His father brought up his fist quick and in the moment he wished he could just hug him. Not this no. Not again. That is why he left.
The court.
Judge.
Custody.
This was why, in the end.
Eddie was on the bed, clutching his side and groaning.
His dad has never done something this cruel. It was usually that look and the slight tense of his muscles then just one hit but nothing like this. Pure rage. Eddie knew he was the one feeding was just him reminding Eddie where he and his mother belonged.
His father yelled out a small "yip bOYS!" and started.
One year and a half of no beatings. Going to school with a black eye. A loud-mouthed Richie asking how he hit his face that time and Bill casting him glances that told him he knew. It was confirmed when Bill pat Eddie the day his mother finalized the divorce papers and his father left to live somewhere else.
Not at his mother's and his house but somewhere close.
Once a month his bad dad...horrible father, came to drop off the child support and once in a while came to steal bottles of alcohol to feed his addiction.
Eddie was in pain. Sick pain. Bruising pain.
His father was laying it all on him. One hit. Two hits. Eddie count feel a couple slaps mixed in, Eddie was in a ball. He whimpered, the taller sneering and jeering.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Eddie let out a yelp of pain.
That's when Mrs. K called 911.
5
The medics on the scene told Eddie bedrest at home was the best for him and that nothing was broken. He got five bandages and was told to ice his bruises for 72 hours.
Eddie wanted to die when his mother asked the permedics if Eddie needed to go the hospital.
"No." They kept answering. The beating was a drunk one, there was damage but not well aimed hits and it was fine. He just needed rest.
Mrs. K kept pacing and thanked the medical staff from the ambulance for saving Eddie.
After the stories were taken for the police and Eddie was sleeping, Mrs. K was restless.
She went to the kitchen.
To eat something. Anything to numb this.
She looked around for food to shove in her mouth and saw the two alcohol bottles that started this.
She threw them in the backyard, glass smashing and the plants drinking up the drinks. She hated that stuff because of what it did to her and her boy. She picked up the phone, ordering a cake for a go-to service.
She insisted it was for a party of 5 she was having later in the day and didn't tell them the truth: she was going to eat it all.
6
Richie knew it was a good day!
The sunlight was pouring through his bedroom window. He jumped up and got his regular clothes on for this occasion.
The moment his mother set a plate of chocolate chip pancakes down in front of him he grinned from ear to ear. It was all too good to be true. His mom promptly left for work after she made the pancakes but in all: it was a magnificent way to start winter break. He wolfed the sweet finger-licking-good breakfast down.
He dumped his plate in the sink and looked outside, the window too clear and pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. There was no snow outside (yet). This was a glorious time for fuckery of every sort that was wiped away with a simple head shake instead of a call to the police. Holiday spirits were up; his especially.
Though it wasn't Christmas, he was hyped up. By the break, but mostly from the sugary pancakes!
Richie opened the window in the kitchen and yelled, "HOLY TITS ITS CHRISTMAS!" like he was in that one Christmas story with that grumpy old man said 'bah' to everyone.
His next door neighbor walking his dog gave him a tired look then continued walking his dog. Maybe he didn't like tits or Christmas. Homosexuals...they were more common than you knew these days.
Right after his window shout, an gay thought, he energetically smiled and ran out into the cold sunshine to his best friend's house.
7
Everything hurt.
Not like…..he shuttered and closed his eyes, close to sleep.
It was another world of pain again the moment Richie catapulted himself on his lying body.
"oWWHGhh-" Eddie shrieked, "Richie! Get off. Get off. Oh my god- Oh god. You broke my bones. all of them. OhH go d."
He was bent over, shoving his friend off.
Eddie's Mother came bustling in, sweat glistening on her forehead like she just ran a 5k. All she actually did was follow the rushing Richie into her own house and up the stairs to her very delicate, very sick boy. Also he was hurt from the incident that she could of prevented if not using the quote unquote powder room.
"Richie Tozier!" She yelled and looked like she was going to have a heart attack at that very moment
Richie fully rolled off of Eddie, causing another series of groans and smiling like a good-boy-who-did-no-bad exclaimed, "Good morning Mam."
"Good morning." She huskily breathed out and chided, "Richie whAT IN THE HELL CRUBBING HELLS BLAZES ARE YOU DOING-just look! JUST LOOK HOW SICK HE IS!?"
Eddie half sitting up, glaring at Richie who gave a career winning moan at that moment, glasses being adjusted swaggily.
"Oh I see the now. Mrs. Eddie's Mom, sorry that hell is blazing over, can Eddie play with me?" He asked, not seeing at all.
"Didn't you hear what I just said Richie. HE IS SICK." She shouted and glanced down at her watch.
She gasped, "Oh no. Oh my lord."
She clutched her chest like she was going to burst into flames, nearly fainting.
"What?" Richie asked loudly, not caring about Eddie, if he was dying. All that he knew is that if Eddie could even talk to him, which was better than an empty home and a static television staring back at him.
"I have to run errands, go to my book club, and get my darling Eddie's medicine. Ahhh o..?-What if he dies on me?!"
She nearly fainted again at this new thought.
"I can stay with him to make sure he doesn't fucking croak." Richie tilted his head and smiled brightly. He waggled his eyebrows.
"Beep. Beep. Richie." Eddie muttered, gasping.
Richie looked at the floor, changing the direction of his feet, and jerked his head back up.
Eddie's MOM gave a wide eyed look to Eddie first then Richie. If Eddie could be fine for a bit, he has at least someone watching him even if it is…..Mrs. K mulled over the fact that her x-husband could come back and someone…that was free without any charge watched him.
Mrs. K's eyes went to slits. She thought about it anxiously for a second and muttered: "language." Then bustled to Eddie to give him a large kiss on the forehead then sped walked out of the room.
She sped walked right back in.
"Here." She hurriedly handed Richie a canary bag of pills, creams, and tubes.
"Give him the blue one at one pm and if he needs anything, he will just tell you." She walked downstairs, Richie following, she was panting and snatched up her purse.
She pointed to Richie, said, "Be. Good. Take care of my delicate boy. I am watching you. Mr. Tozier."
Richie gulped, his smile disappearing and he nodded, watching her walk out of her house she was trying to kick him out of only five minutes earlier.
She closed the door then came right back in and made him take a squirt of hand sanitizer and gave him a blue mask. She left even quicker than she came in.
Richie took it in. The responsibility of this task. Of taking care of Eddie. Of making sure he was okay. He breathed in and looked at the main entryway.
He glanced at the ceiling silently and nodded to himself.
It was the holidays.
Richie dropped the bag of medicine, tossed the mask over his shoulder, shrugging, and went into their kitchen to poke around.
8
Eddie knew faintly that his mom left and that he was alone now.
That was good and he was grateful for it. He gave up on trying to sleep and stared at the ceiling dully. His bruises felt like ghosts, Eddie had felt all of this before. He didn't like it but he dealt with it.
He was fine.
Only sick and bit hurt.
He kind of knew that Richie was going to watch over him but he didn't fully realize this until Richie came into his room, sporting one of his mom's spring coats.
"Hey look at me Eddie! I am the fashion forward bitch, 2012." Eddie looked at his friend: potty mouthed as ever and posing for him, the jacket colossal on his tiny frame. He also sported his mother's biggest hat with a bouquet of flowers on it.
The purple hat was floppy and hung over Richie's eyes.
Richie smiled at the Eddie in pain and Eddie smiled a big fake smile.
"Wow." Eddie sarcastically said, shoving Richie away which was just a pat since his strength was sapped from the sickness.
Richie was trying to bring cheer to Eddie! It was almost Christmas! His friend looked a little unusually blue and he was full of freckles and fun. Richie posed for Eddie again, this time sticking out his chest and puffing his lips out. He tipped up the floppy hat, it nearly falling off of his head.
"Great." Eddie groaned more than said.
"I know!" Richie ran from the room and Eddie heard a loud sound from the hallway and a loud, "SHIT!"
Eddie sighed loudly and got up from his bed, whimpering from the effort and went to the hallway. His head hurt.
Eddie didn't know if he was supposed to babysit Richie or that Richie was supposed to babysit him now.
"Richie…?" Eddie was a bit scared but dead tired, even if was still early afternoon.
"Fucking hell-oh my god oh my god. God damn it. Damn it." Richie was hurt, Eddie finding Richie on the floor, his hand red and dripping.
It was the hat. The damn hat. The floppiness of it and Richie running through the house causing this.
Eddie was groaning lightly, he was clutching the wall.
The smaller boy didn't know how much nonsense he could take from Richie.
He was bleeding and Eddie was put onto alert mode, even though he was still thirteen years old, his senses knowing his had to deal with this. He hated it but knew he had to be loyal. Richie was trying. Richie was somewhere close to Eddie's age but not so much in maturity.
Eddie sighed loudly and grabbed Richie's other unhurt hand. The smaller boy grunted quietly because of his torso wounds and helped his friend.
Eddie pushed through his own pain and whispered in a calming tone, "Stop crying Richie, come on."
9
Once the glass was out of Richie's hand and everything was swept up, Richie was strangely quiet except for a polite, "Yes" and "thank you" and that Eddie was a god damned good doctor, that there would be so many sexy nurses of some nature and more brief mention of pantyhose. Eddie only half listened and bandaged up his hand and applied Neosporin on it. He felt faint at this moment while the pantyhose was mentioned but thought nothing of it.
Though sometimes Eddie was faint at the sight of blood, he was too sick to even care that Richie cut his hand open. He just was on auto-pilot, getting things done quickly and efficiently so he could get back to bed to sleep.
After a while of hiding the evidence some "Mmm-hmmm" and "ok"s to Richie, plus cleaning everything up, Richie continued to talk.
At this moment Richie was sitting at Eddie's bedside.
They talked for a while, Richie mostly elaborated about bulldozers and how good sex would be in them. He had no idea what sex was but that it was an XXX thing and it obviously had to be in his vocabulary since it was crude. The boy in bed could feel anxiety building up, he tried to hang onto every word. He really tried to fake listen.
With Eddie dozing off to the thought of muscled men in hardhats and skimpy girls gasping, Richie got the hint that Eddie wasn't listening.
"Hey. Dorkus." Richie poked Eddie's face and wondered to himself if it was better to bother stuttering Bill, even if he was more friends with Eddie than Bill was with him.
"Heyyyyyyy-Wake up you motherlicker, pip pip, time to defeat those negros in the Norths, they want their freedom. More tea!" He said in his English voice.
He learned about that in history, Richie was proud.
"I don't lick my mother Richie, just let me sleep." Eddie muttered, rolling over in his bed.
Eddie sighed loudly but it came out a little screechy. Eddie sat up, ready to cuss Richie out but he saw a spider skitter to the corner of the room and a shadow. It was human. No a dog? There was bandages from the spot the spider was and went out of the room, making a trail of bandages.
Eddie's eyes flew open, wide. His chest felt all of the sudden tight. He leaned over, gasping at his injuries and nearly threw up because it hurt so much. He was hugging himself tightly and it made his world spin. This was it. Getting up caused this while not listening to his symptoms.
He suddenly felt fainter. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut but could only see black liquid sloshing, he nearly cried at the thought in the moment.
"Inhaler." Eddie sat up straighter, breathing in big gulps of air before it got the point of where barley a pinhole of air could get in.
"What." He panned, hearing what Eddie said but not taking it in.
"Inhaler NOW." Eddie put a hand on his chest and bent in his bed even more.
Panic flashed in Richie's eyes and he said, "Of sure course. I mean-"
He didn't know why he fumbled with his words but he clomped down the stairs all the same. He reached the living room and found the bag. He didn't realize the yellow piss bag was open and it spilled out onto the floor as he picked it up.
Sounds of rattling, soft thuds, and sfffpphhhs of bandages hit the ground in a rain of hospital.
"God living in hell damn it!" He swore and scooped up the medicine bottles in hands, six at a time, and turned around, clutching the bag.
He meant to go through the door but instead hit the doorframe in hurry and yelled, "Virgins in olive oil!"
It actually hurt a lot and felt his knee already swelling, he pushed through and quickly ran upstairs. Richie arrived just in time in Eddie's room and this time dumped the pouch but this time it was on purpose, this time on Eddie's lap.
Eddie's hand danced around the pile, eyes darting for the device, wheezing, and he grabbed the inhaler, delivering a puff the instant it went to his lips.
His chest heaved up and down this time with easiness.
"You okay?" Richie more solemnly said and Eddie looked up, dark bags under his eyes.
Eddie looked at Richie's face, glasses thick and searched for any sort of humor. Something that indicated that this was a joke. A sick joke but a joke all the same. The seriousness of his face took Eddie back and he relaxed his shoulders.
"I'm fine." Eddie breathed out clearly, and gestured to the yellow bag on the floor.
"Give me that." Eddie said, but instead was surprised when Richie said he would do it and gathered up the medicine like he had done it before.
"Thanks." Eddie sank into the bed gratefully and Richie said nothing for once.
Richie gave a half smile and wrapped his arm halfway around Eddie's body for a hug. Eddie didn't see this coming and he didn't tell Richie to back the hell away, it all happened quickly.
Mid-hug Eddie gasped loudly in pain and Richie jumped, backing away.
"You okay?" Richie was confused.
Eddie made himself recover quickly and nodded.
An hour passed and Richie, a bit subdued; of course fiddled around with Eddie's things but greeted his mother all the same with "sup'".
He got a face between a sneer and a smile and he went home with finger guns and a big smile.
Richie went home where his mother paid him no mind when he wasn't swearing. It was winter break and his friend was very sick. It sucked. Richie knew he caused more than enough trouble concerning the broken vase on top of bothering Eddie a lot with his scattered thoughts.
He needed to get his thoughts out.
They hurt if he didn't tell someone.
Richie was a bundle of nervous but loud thoughts that had to be heard. His parents worked a lot and spent less and less company with him as he grew older.
Something changed in his mind. Richie cringed at this, ugh. Feelings. Little did he know this was going to be ten times worse as a full-teenager. Hormones and all, Richie didn't like feeling bad, only making jokes and doing voices.
The phone rang.
He picked it up and said in a low tone, "Pink lee's Porno Emporium Palace...what's your pleasure?"
There was sputtering over the phone the caller hung up.
He walked to the hallway and the phone rang again. He turned, a wide smile on his face and grabbed it barely on the second ring.
This time he answered with a squawky, "Door to Door Dildo Delivery, no job too big or too small."
He waited and this time was met with, "Richie. Hello."
"Who's is this?" He said quickly.
The caller said, "Mrs. K."
"Oh hello! Do you wish to buy a di-"
"Richie knock it off." She was annoyed, "This concerns Eddie and it is IMPORTANT, I know all you kids are off on break now so this won't cut into your school at all and that Eddie isn't missing any-Anywho."
"What can I do for you, my lovely lady in shining dresses?"
She didn't reply to that remark but sighed like Eddie did a lot; she explained, "I am going away tomorrow and could you watch over my darling boy? Of course I can pay you. The only thing I ask is that you behave and don't light my house on fire. Please don't light anything on fire Richie Tozier."
She paused, "That would be very bad for Eddie's breathing issues."
It sounded like Eddie needed to be hooked up to a Darth Vader oxygen tank if Richie ever decided arson was his dream career.
"Sure would be Mrs. K." Richie agreed.
"Well I just need you to keep an eye on him and give him the pills I will arrange for you so you don't get anything messed up. I will make it easy for you. Richie I would ask an actual professional but you know what time of year it is…." Eddie's mother trailed off.
He sighed like a girl, "Aw damn, that is so very dang thoughtful of you."
"Richie, just watch over Eddie and make sure he lives while I am gone for the day."
"Will do. Hey do you know what a plumber says to his wife in the bed?"
"I will pay you when I get back and make sure that everything is a-ok." She said in a normal voice.
"Good plumbing, can I check your basement?"
"Thank you Richie." Mrs. K said quickly.
It didn't seem like a fluid conversation but she knew if that she got past Richie's jokes he actually was a kind boy. Even it was hard and very prideful to like him. She did not like Richie at all.
Mrs. K tolerated Richie.
Richie bleated on his side of the phone and said in a Kermit the Frog voice that sounded like a nasally impression of him, "But that is not of my business, it will be all of mine, for I am going to soon be-"
He switched to his superhero voice, "Up up and awayyyy!"
All Richie heard the next five seconds was the dial tone and the deal was sealed.
10
Twas' the second day of Christmas break and Christmas Eve was one day away, the exciting day already planned: packed the night before. He was going to spend a day with his unwell friend and take care of him.
11
Richie knocked on the door and Mrs. K answered it, flushed in the face, and hair pulled back into what looked like a bun-ponytail.
It reminded him of show horses. Richie decided not to say anything. There had to be a line sometimes.
"Hello I am ready to take care of this my mucus-ey friend."
Eddie's mom replied calmly, "Richie hello."
She briefed him on the ins and outs of his medicines and if he gets too sweaty to give him a bath and that he now needed a bowl next to his bedside. She went on.
Mrs. K took a breath, done explaining her five minute monologue.
Also that-with some suspicion-to look out for her blue vase because she found some anti-allergenic beautiful flowers that wouldn't affect Eddie and they would look brilliant. Richie told her that she looked brilliant, especially HER FACE, and with that whole interaction, she left with a good remark from the witty and foulmouthed boy.
Mrs. K left in her car and backed out of the driveway quickly. She was leaving to talk to her husband about their relationship. She could not wait anxiously in her house with her dearest Eddie. She was doing this for Eddie. Mrs. K saw the bruises, she saw the police knowingly taking care of it. She was doing this for his sake, at his sickest to clear up some good childhood years yet to come. Mrs. K did really care for Eddie deeply and she knew this was not the best option but vested in herself that it was the only one at this moment.
She was going to file charges.
In the house, Richie dumped his bag and the list in Eddie's room, "YOUR MOM told me things Eddster."
Richie smiled, waving his arms, "We are going to party so hard dopeman." Richie proclaimed and Eddie kept his eyes closed, mimicking sleeping. Richie was surprised! Why would he be sleeping when he could party with his good friend: RICHIE THE GREAT. Well...Eddie was supposedly sleeping. He poked his friend's face and came to the conclusion that he was actually sleeping. Who does that?
Richie's thoughts and light promises to his mom over the phone reminded him of what he supposed to be doing. So he shut his mouth and went downstairs to make something resembling soup.
When Richie was done making the soup, he thought he did a good job with it, taking a spoonful and dishing it in the bowl, stirring it.
It was his best work yet and all of it came out of a can.
Richie walked upstairs, expecting to find Eddie in his room, and he nearly dropped the hot bowl of get-damn-better-goodness.
12
Richie first noticed was that he was pale.
Eddie's hair was plastered to his forehead and he was swaying side to side, his hand was on the wall, leaning against it. This was not a Aranida Grande music video so Richie set the bowl on the ground, and helped.
He barely grasped Eddie's hand when his friend fell in his arms. He was warm, too hot. Eddie was barely standing upright. He looked...sick.
Like...sick. Sick.
Richie was concerned one moment, then relaxed when Eddie lifted his head the next moment.
"Toilet." Ed slurred.
Richie paused, digesting the words.
"SHIT."
Richie turned lividly anxious, he wanted to touchdown, hail fucking mary his friend in the bathroom for the fear of what he was going to do all over the floor from his mouth.
"Okay come on." Richie felt a nervous energy in him, "Come on bud."
He half led, half dragged Eddie to the bathroom, and leaned against the door to open it.
A realization hit him and all he said was, "Shit."
Richie himself turned white, not as pale as Eddie but his heart was slamming against his chest. He was not ready for this. He knew he signed up for this crap but at the moment he wanted to turn to a toad.
Richie's face flushed and he leaned against the door harder.
Relief flooded him and Eddie clamped a hand over his own mouth.
"No. No. No. No." Richie pushed Eddie into the bathroom and the boy had enough sense to grab the toilet bowl and empty his stomach into it
"Holy fucking shit." Richie wiped his face and found sweat there.
13
They were in Ed's room now, this time the half dragging being more efficient and quicker than the almost mess to the bathroom.
"Do you want second helpings Eddie?" Richie held up the untouched bowl.
It was a joke since Eddie did not even touch the spoon and had just thrown up. The raven haired boy was not feeling any better.
Eddie was lying in bed now. His stomach twisted with unease. He was at the end of his rope.
Richie held up the bowl closer to Eddie's face and Eddie shook his head for the fifth time, his face turning a light green color. Eddie's mood was ok, just tired and over all mellow and done with Richie.
Richie prodded even more, "Hey Edds you gotta fracking take some, you need strength ya know after all that puking."
Eddie coughed up mucus politely and said, "No."
Richie noticed the puke bucket, a large beetle sitting in it, chilling.
The smaller boy then gave a short shiver and Richie perked up.
"Are you cold?"
"No." Eddie said again.
His limbs were contracting and releasing, trying to warm his body.
"Dude you could of just damn well asked."
Richie set the bowl down, next to the beetle in the bucket. Bucket beetle. Richie came in for the hug.
"No I am going to get you sick!" Eddie screeched, trying to tiredly push him off.
"Sick of my best of all delux friendship in a package-and not those butt drug packages people carry around."
"Richie." Eddie felt his friend's arms around him and he was anxious.
The bruises. The germs. Eddie was worried about both. What if it was like yesterday with the accidental wince or that he would get Richie sick.
"You know those butt drug people are called mules Ed." Richie informed Eddie.
The hug was softer and Eddie somehow relaxed at the really dumb comment that again that came out of Richie's mouth.
"I hate you." Eddie laid his head on Richie's shoulder.
"I know." Richie smiled.
Eddie felt warmer but he still hated Richie, even if slightly less in the midst of the hug.